Lions Walk Alone

by Susanna Firth

  'I've already seen all you have to offer,' he drawled, his tone making it insultingly clear that it held no charms at all for him. 'Don't tell me maidenly modesty still operates in your case.'

  'Not at all,' she snapped. 'Just choosiness. When I give a private show I like to perform before an invited audience. Any objections?'

  'None at all.' He got to his feet, his tall figure immediately dominating the room. 'It's a pleasure that I can forgo without too many regrets.'

  He couldn't have made it more obvious that her kind of woman didn't do anything for him, Nita thought, as the door closed behind him and she began to dress herself automatically. He despised her for what he considered her to be—someone with no morals to speak of.

  And yet he had business with her—or so he claimed. She frowned as she stepped into her simple cotton skirt and pulled a matching pink T-shirt over her head and tucked it in the waistband. What did he want? Fears and doubts rose in her mind.

  It wasn't long before she joined him outside the dressing room, although he didn't waste words complimenting her on the fact. His women probably never dared to keep him waiting.

  But Nita wasn't one of his women, as his hard, unsmiling face and brusque manner made eminently clear.

  'Ready?'

  'Yes.' As much as she ever would be when it came to dealing with him, she supposed.

  'I've a table booked at the Primavera.' He named a small Italian restaurant that she had often visited with Jeff. It wasn't far away from the club.

  'I know it.'

  'Do you mind walking there? I can get a cab if you would prefer?'

  'No, don't bother.' Nita didn't know that she wanted to sit beside him in the enclosed space of a car. And anyway, on this section of the Beach, well patrolled and policed even at this time of night, it was safe enough to go on foot without worry.

  Leon Calveto didn't attempt to take her arm as she thought he might, but she was conscious enough of his powerful figure, silent at her side, and held herself tensely, careful to keep a distance between them.

  She was relieved when they reached the restaurant and the width of a stout wooden table separated them. They were seated slightly apart from the main dining area, in an alcove that was intended for cosy tête-à-têtes. If only the waiter who was smiling so benignly at them knew how far from being an ideal couple they were!

  'A drink?' Leon slanted an enquiring look in her direction.

  'Why not?' Nita ordered a vodka on the rocks and saw the faint lift to his brow. 'You're thinking that nicely brought up girls from our part of the world don't order drinks like that.'

  'Perhaps.' He ordered a Scotch for himself and then turned back to her. 'But you've put all that behind you, haven't you?'

  'I hope so.' And she thought she had succeeded until tonight when this man had appeared on the scene. 'The past is just that. It doesn't have any meaning for me any more.'

  'I see.' He paused as their drinks were served. 'And what about the people in your past?'

  She reached for her glass and took a steadying sip of the ice-cold liquid within. It wasn't often that she indulged in spirits, but tonight she had felt in need of Dutch courage. It looked as if her instincts were right.

  'What about them?' she responded warily.

  'You care nothing about them either, I suppose?' he asked her.

  'Should I? I have a new life now. I wouldn't have anything in common with the girls I grew up with.'

  'Or they with you, I imagine.' The brown eyes scanned her with faint contempt. 'But I wasn't referring to them.'

  'No?' She took another drink and pretended an interest in the menu she held. She knew where he was heading now. She had known all along, but she had refused to admit it to herself, let alone him.

  'No. You're not obtuse, so don't pretend that you've no idea what I'm talking about.' He frowned, his dark brows drawing together in a hostile line. 'I mean your father.'

  'I haven't a father,' she said. 'Not any more.'

  He made an impatient noise.

  'It's true. If you know as much about me as you claim, you should know that,' Nita told him bitterly.

  'I know it's suited you to ignore his existence for these last three years.'

  'Is that what he told you?'

  'It's what I've heard from other people.'

  'And you believed them, of course.' Nita's glass hit the table with an angry thump.

  He didn't reply. At that moment a waiter appeared to remind them that they hadn't ordered yet.

  'What will you have?' Leon's tone was as abrupt as hers had been, impatient at the interruption.

  The lines of print danced off the menu page at her. Food was the last thing on her mind at the moment. 'Oh, anything.' She made a random choice. 'The snapper, I think, with a side salad. No, nothing else.'

  He made his own selection and ordered a bottle of wine without consulting her preferences. She wondered if this conversation was as much of a strain for him as it was for her. If it was he gave no indication of it.

  'What do you want with me?' she asked bluntly. 'Who exactly are you anyway?'

  'You know my name.'

  Who was being deliberately obtuse now? 'You know what I mean!'

  'Call me an interested party,' he said.

  'Interested in what?'

  'Taking you back home.'

  'My home is here in Florida now,' she said coldly.

  'Even if your father thinks otherwise?'

  'My father doesn't control my actions any more,' Nita said calmly. 'I thought that he would have realised that by now.'

  'Perhaps he has. But he wants you back.'

  'Does he?' She gave him a direct look. 'Is that what you've come to tell me? Three years ago he said he never wanted to see me again.'

  'And you believed him?'

  'He usually means what he says—that's how he got where he is. Straight talking, no frills, just the truth, whether it's pleasant or not.' Nita closed her eyes to hide the hurt that must surely show in them. She hadn't thought that her father's business rules would apply in her case. But they had. Leon Calveto couldn't know what she had been through when her letters had come back unopened and her attempts to get in touch had been rejected out of hand. 'Don't tell me he's changed his mind?'

  'He needs you.'

  'Did he say so?' Nita demanded.

  'Not in so many words.'

  'What did he say?'

  He shrugged. 'That, if I found you, I could tell you that you were free to come home, if you cared to.'

  'Yes, that sounds like him,' Nita said wryly. 'Graciousness was never one of his strong points. It's not exactly the fatted calf, is it?'

  'Do you think that you deserve that from him?'

  'I've never expected it, at any rate.' She wasn't going into the rights and wrongs of the matter with a total stranger. 'Where do you come into all this anyway?' she demanded of him. 'Is it money you're after? Do you get a handsome pay-out once the erring daughter has been restored to the fold?'

  His face darkened with anger and she knew she had touched him. 'Money! Is that the first thing that comes to mind with you?' he asked contemptuously.

  'It's a consideration.'

  'Not where I'm concerned.'

  He certainly looked prosperous enough. The suit he was wearing was hand-tailored and the heavy watch on his wrist had looked expensive. But looks weren't everything in a man. She had learnt that lesson by now.

  'So?' she asked. 'Enlighten me.'

  There was a flurry of activity at their side as their meal arrived and Leon was silent as it was served, approving the wine before it was poured into their glasses. When they were left alone again, he deigned to explain matters to her.

  'I'm a business associate of your father. I've known him for some time. We've always got on well.' A genuine smile lit the harsh planes of his face and gave him a human look for the first time. Nita was amazed at the difference it made to him. 'He chose to confide in me about his personal life—'


  'And you volunteered to solve his problems for him. That was very obliging of you,' she said sarcastically. 'Tell me, was my father grateful to you?'

  'He said I was a damn fool for interfering.'

  She laughed shortly. 'Then why did you?'

  'I thought it was time that things were patched up between you.' The dark eyes flicked over her. 'You're all he's got.'

  'However unsatisfactory.' Nita was quick to voice his unspoken comment. She picked moodily at the food on her plate, not really tasting what she ate as she tried desperately to take in what she had been told. Three years out in the cold and now the olive branch—or something fairly close to it. She knew her father. However ungracious the message, it meant just that.

  'So why the change of heart?' she asked.

  'Does there have to be a reason?'

  'My father usually has a reason for everything he does. I can't imagine him making an exception in this case.'

  'Time softens people.'

  'Nothing short of a major earthquake would have that effect on him,' she said derisively. Then she saw his face, the jerk of a small muscle by that hard, unyielding mouth. 'Something's happened, hasn't it?'

  'Would you care if it had?'

  'My father? How is he? Is he all right?'

  'I wondered when you were going to get round to asking that,' Leon said grimly.

  'Well? Tell me.'

  He didn't try to soften the news or lead up to it gradually. 'He had a heart attack a little over two weeks ago.'

  Nita gripped the table edge hard in an effort to control herself. Suddenly the room was spinning around her. 'Bad?'

  'Bad enough,' he told her unemotionally. 'Stress, the doctors said—that and overwork.'

  'He always did work too hard.' As long as she could remember, work had been her father's life. Her mother and herself had seemed to come a long way behind it in his affections. 'He didn't send for me.' That hurt her.

  'How could he? He didn't know where you were,' Leon Calveto pointed out with cruel emphasis. 'You didn't see fit to furnish him with your address, so I had to get an agency in to track you down.'

  She hardly heard him. The news had stunned her. Diego Lopez had always seemed invincible, an iron man with an iron will that had shown itself as much to his only child as to his business rivals. Illness had never touched him in his life. Until now, it seemed.

  'How is he now?' Nita asked.

  'Recovering.'

  'You don't give much away, do you?' she flared.

  He shrugged. 'I'm not his doctor.'

  'I must go to him,' she said.

  'A bit late in the day for daughterly devotion. But better late than never, I suppose.'

  'I love my father!' Nita claimed furiously.

  'Do you? You don't seem to have shown much proof of it in the last three years.'

  'How dare you speak to me like that!'

  'I speak as I find,' he shrugged.

  'You'll find you're wrong.'

  'I hope so,' he said.

  But his tone lacked conviction.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Next day, as she sat in the cool, air-conditioned comfort of a plane bound for Mexico City, Nita's head was still spinning from the speed at which events had overtaken her. It all seemed a bit like a dream—or rather a nightmare, orchestrated by the man who now occupied the seat beside her.

  'Comfortable?' Leon Calveto's dark head turned towards her in polite enquiry.

  'Fine, thank you.'

  Communications between them were on a civilised basis today, as if last night's encounter had never taken place. But Nita had not forgotten it, and she was sure that he hadn't either.

  She looked warily sideways at him. He was every inch a businessman, smart in a sombre suit teamed with a cream silk shirt and a discreetly patterned tie. But the outward trappings couldn't conceal the true nature of the man, the particular, predatory appeal that he had for women. Nita had seen the interest flare in the stewardess's eyes as she had seated them. 'I'm Susie. Call me if you need anything at all,' she had said to them both, but her invitation was directed solely at Leon.

  She was welcome to him, if she wanted him. Any woman could have him as far as Nita was concerned. Yes, he had sexual magnetism. But that was all he had to offer. His other qualities were less appealing to live with—his arrogance, his automatic assumption that he knew best, his tendency to judge without hearing the facts. They added up to a rude, overbearing boor, Nita told herself.

  She smiled her acceptance of a spare pillow and a pile of the latest glossy magazines to read on the journey and sipped the glass of champagne that one of the stewards offered her. It was three years since she had enjoyed the privileges that made for a first-class lifestyle, but it was amazing how quickly one settled back into a world where other people took care of the details of one's life, smoothing out the minor irritations that occurred. The very rich led a cocooned existence.

  Careful, she warned herself. Don't get used to all this luxury. This isn't happy-ever-after land that you're heading for. You discovered that a long time ago. She gave a little sigh.

  That attracted Leon's attention. He didn't miss a thing.

  'What's the matter?' he asked.

  'Nothing.'

  A dark brow lifted sardonically. 'It doesn't look like it.' He glanced across her to the window and the view it gave of the rapidly receding Florida coastline. 'Well, it's too late to change your mind now.'

  'I'm quite aware of that, thank you,' she said coldly. 'And anyway, I haven't changed my mind.'

  'Then stop sulking and make the best of it.'

  'I'm trying to.'

  'Really?' He was sceptical. 'I can't say that I've noticed much evidence of it.'

  So much for her attempts to be politely distant to him. Trust him to misinterpret them!

  'Surely you'll allow me a few regrets?' she asked coldly.

  'For what you've left behind?' He sounded disbelieving. 'And what exactly does that amount to?'

  'Quite a lot—at least by my standards. My career for a start. And then there are my friends—'

  'Your career!' He was rudely, bitingly dismissive. 'Ah, yes—top of the bill in a squalid little nightclub. Was that the summit of your ambition? Should I apologise for dragging you away from stardom? I'm not going to.'

  'Squalid, it isn't!' Nita sprang to her own defence. 'The Pink Flamingo has got a very good reputation.'

  'For what, I wonder?'

  'For entertaining people,' she snapped.

  'Oh, that I don't doubt. But as to the kind of entertainment offered—' His mouth twisted contemptuously.

  'Substandard?' Nita asked sweetly. 'You think I can't sing?'

  'You sing very nicely.' He managed to make it sound like a put-down.

  'Thank you. You're very kind,' she said rudely.

  'But it was your other assets that I was referring to.'

  'Oh?' She feigned ignorance. 'And what are they?'

  'Do you really need me to list them?' His dark eyes flicked over her figure, making a swift but obvious inventory. 'I'd have thought you knew precisely what you had to offer, from the way that you were flaunting yourself at every man in sight last night.'

  Not every man, she thought. Just you. She had hardly been able to drag her eyes away from him, for all she knew that he spelled danger. And it was the first time she had felt such a wave of sexual awareness and excitement in an encounter. But it was no use expecting Leon Calveto to believe that. She wasn't even sure that she wanted him to. After all, she had her pride.

  She forced herself to give a careless laugh. It took an effort to sound casual when she was burning inside with the resentment that his words caused. 'The club likes us to make the customers feel welcome,' she defended.

  'I don't doubt it.'

  'And you're saying that's a bad thing? I don't think that anyone else who was there last night would agree with you.'

  'Probably not. But other people's opinions don't interest me.' The arrogant
note was back in his voice. 'I don't follow the crowd.'

  'You lead it, I suppose,' Nita said sarcastically.

  'Sometimes.' His eyes dwelt for a long, thoughtful moment on her lips. 'Let's say I take up challenges when they present themselves to me.'

  'You've a very high opinion of yourself, haven't you?' she accused him. 'Pardon me if I don't happen to share it!'

  'So last night's advances were all part of the act?'

  'What do you think?' she taunted him.

  There was a wicked glint in his eye. 'If they were, you certainly put a lot of enthusiasm into your work.'

  'Misplaced, no doubt,' she seethed.

  'Oh, I wouldn't say that.' He gave a faint, reminiscent smile. 'Not from where I was sitting.'

  Nita couldn't think of a reply that would flatten him, and if she stayed by his side any longer, she was afraid that she would resort to physical violence. She didn't know what would happen if she slapped his face, but she had a notion that he would retaliate by some means or other if she did. Instead she gave him a cool, remote smile and excused herself to go to the powder room. It was a cowardly retreat and they both knew it, but at least it left her with her dignity intact.

  In the confined space of the toilet she adjusted her make-up, combed her hair and held her hands under the cold tap in an effort to cool herself down. What was it about the man that set her temper at danger level, jarring her control of herself and sending it spinning? Whatever it was, it had to be firmly resisted.

  Her head was held high as she walked back to her seat, but the defiance in her manner was wasted on Leon Calveto. He had taken advantage of her absence to take some papers from the bulky briefcase that he had carried on board with him, and he now appeared to be completely immersed in them.

  Bored with her company, no doubt. Well, two could play at that game, she thought, as she slid past him into her seat, grateful that the space between first-class seats allowed plenty of room to manoeuvre. In the economy section she would have had to squeeze embarrassingly close to him. And, where physical contact was concerned, the further away she kept from Leon Calveto the better.

  She sat back in her seat and took up one of her magazines, flipping through it with a careless air. But she wasn't really seeing the fashionable clothes and jewellery that it featured. Instead questions that she had pushed far to the back of her mind and avoided answering rose and confronted her, refusing to be pushed aside.